Come On
by spacemonkey13
Summary: I know that this is the first and last bottle for the night. At least until I get home but seeing as how I'm spending more and more time staking out her apartment and pulling all-nighters..."


_Disclaimer: My birthday came and went but FOX was adamant about their rights and all that. So, unfortunately, that means I __still own nothing._

_Author's Note: I'm not quite done with "__**Ad Noctum**__" although the last chapter's coming up soon. In the meantime, I just had this thought and decided to go with it. I know it is something that runs almost parallel to the aforementioned story but I hope this will still garner at least enough interest from the Bones fans out there._

**Come On**

I have found myself heartbroken before.

It's not fun, of course. But there is a certain element in the process that allows you to appreciate the situation once it has come to pass.

A friend of mine from way back once remarked after a painful break-up that he wished there was a switch for all those emotions you have inside. I wasn't quite sure what to say but I found a part of me agreeing with his sentiment.

However, looking back at the things I have seen, done and gone through, I am grateful that no such switch exists. God knows how I might have turned out if I went through my stint as a sniper with such ability.

There are trials and tribulations that come with feeling and know that were it not for such pains, I might not recognize happiness when it's right in front of me, otherwise.

This time, however, I have a feeling that it would take a very long time for me to look back on this moment and appreciate the sentiments and platitudes. This time, I wonder if it would be so bad to have that proverbial switch so I can stop hurting.

Yet, here I am, in the middle of the night on my way to my partner's apartment.

God, am I a masochist or what?

Chances are she's already asleep but I just...

I need to be close to her.

I need to know that she's okay. Know that she's safe...even if there's already someone else to make sure of that.

And the pain returns, slamming into me like a harsh reminder.

Still, I park in front of her building and look up onto her window.

A part of me is scared that I might be seen. A part of me, scared to see HIM with her. My Bones. My partner. Another part of me feels curious as to what she might do if she noticed me waiting in my car. For what? I don't know exactly but I'm still here anyway. A bigger part of me however feels excited, waiting to be noticed by HIM so that I can perhaps take my own anger and frustration at him. I wonder what he would do if he saw me. Yep, I can take him down. No problem at all.

But the biggest, greatest part of me is just...willing. I'm willing to let her be happy just like how she has been as of late, and that is why I can't take him out and intimidate the hell out of him like I usually do with her past boyfriends.

I let out a huge breath as I rummage around the pile beside me and take a swig of beer. Creepy and pathetic but hey, it's not a pity party without booze, right?

Her voice almost insistently seems to make an appearance in my head, chastising me with that look on her face and berating me with words about how I'm driving and should not be taking in any alcohol.

I know that this is the first and last bottle for the night. At least until I get home but seeing as how I'm spending more and more time staking out her apartment and pulling all-nighters...Yep, this'll be the first and last for tonight.

This will be the last night.

I'm letting her go.

I admit that I started to stay out here at first to make sure she was okay. That this guy she had started dating was no freak, murderer, psycho or cultist (I still can't help but snort at that David as part of a cult). When I found myself following this routine more and more, even if the sight of HIM going up to her place at nights became too much to bear, I slowly began to realize that I was trying to hold on to something I had no claim or right to. There wasn't even anything else really to hold on to except for our partnership, our friendship.

But now it's time. Bones looked happy and I hated to admit it but he was treating her right. She deserved him. He was smart, a gentleman, quite overprotective too, made her laugh (she needed to laugh more. Made her look younger and carefree), and even made sure she was eating and leaving the lab on time.

All the things I used to do for her, now HE did for her.

No more late night talks and dinner at her place, or her lab. No more, phone calls in the middle of the day just to catch up on what the other was up to with the pretence of a case or paperwork. No more cajoling her into taking lunch and leaving the lab early. No more Mac and Cheese...a small chuckle escapes my lips as I realize I'm sure as hell going to miss that too. I think I feel tears coming on but dammit I AM NOT GOING TO CRY.

I made it almost like my goal in life to get Bones to live a little, let loose, and get a life outside her work. I wanted her to be loved and to love but I was hoping that the person she could share that with was me.

But what the hell, right? It's not like I deserve a woman like Bones anyway. God knows she could do so much better.

And she did. She finally did.

So what am I still doing here?

I notice that my bottle's empty and look at the dashboard clock. It's barely even twelve and the lights are out at her place. I smack my head on the steering wheel, anticipating the turn of my thoughts. Must. Not. Go. There. Each word earns a reverberating slam on the wheel.

I furiously turn the key in the ignition and as I just about "stomped" on the pedal, the screech of wheels barely registered in my head.

X X X X X

I'm worried.

Something is just not right with Booth as of lately. He's taken to staking out my apartment a number of nights now and I wonder what is going on inside his head. He no longer dropped by the lab during lunch and no longer tried to drag me out of the Jeffersonian at what he calls "decent hour."

I peer out of my window and true to form, there he is.

I feel a frown come on and—pardon the pun—squint, to see a little bit clearly in the darkness at what seems to be a bottle he's holding in his hand.

The sonofa— he's drinking while driving?? And he calls himself an FBI agent!

I'm not sure what to do or how to get Booth to talk but something's got to uh "give". I'm not sure what that means but I think I got the context right. This has gone on long enough.

I'm worried about him and a part of me insists that I'm worried for "us." And it's not just the partnership that I'm talking about.

See, I have a feeling I know what's going on with Booth. Though I'm not one to jump to conclusions without all the facts laid before me, I can, however, hope and listen to my "gut" as Booth usually does.

Going out with another man other than my partner was just a mistake.

I hate to admit it but part of the attraction I originally felt was because he reminded me so much of Booth. It was unfair to both of us. Three, if I count the man sleeping in my bed right now.

This was a huge mistake. Have I mentioned this was a mistake? A huge one? Well, there's no sense in repeating it but damn it. I never should have gone out with him and even if I did, I never should have encouraged this to go on for as long as it has.

However, before I can even contemplate going down there to lecture my partner on the risks and statistics of drinking and driving, and hopefully to talk, he suddenly pulls out of parking and drives away.

I turn a bit to my right and glance at the sleeping form on my bed.

With a decision fully formed and resolved in my head, I grab my coat, phone, wallet and keys. I leave a note on the counter and quietly shut the door behind me.

No time like the present to check out if I've learned enough about "gut feelings" from the master himself and take a risk on laying out the facts for him. If what I know about Booth holds true, he'll never make the first move and we'll be stuck in limbo ourselves, most likely for the rest of our natural lives. Stubborn man. Tells me there's a damn line. Talk about setting himself up. And then, THEN he withdraws away from me. What the hell is up with that?!

Stubborn, proud, alpha male…

Well here goes nothing, partner. I'll be damned if I let him walk away from me, from this, from us.

I'm not losing my partner. Not without a fight, even if that fight would be with the man himself I would be fighting for.

FIN

_The title and plot was inspired by Ben Jelen's song "Come on." I would encourage you all to listen to it simply because it's awesome. grin_


End file.
